Everything Max had done leading up to this exact, explosive moment was heavily influenced by his way of dealing with business, a ruthless methodology he had learned and perfected in his previous life.
The underlying truth of the world was that, at their core, high-level legitimate businesses and sprawling criminal organizations ran on strikingly similar principles. They both required extreme hierarchy, resource management, and a complete focus on ensuring they kept operating at a high profit margin while crushing the competition. The boardrooms of Wall Street and the back alleys of the underworld were two sides of the exact same coin.
So, there was a massive amount of corporate strategy he could bring over into his current syndicate warfare. There were only slight differences, the main one being that a criminal organization would be completely willing to cross moral lines and break the law to achieve a monopoly. And now, having learned the harsh lessons of his past, that was exactly the same for Max. He was no longer bound by the rules of a society that had failed him.
He was able to think exactly how Ramon would think. He knew what a desperate, cornered man would resort to in the end, which was exactly why he had things prepared in advance.
He had only sent Na into the facility. It was a highly calculated risk. Max was absolutely sure that there were other hidden spies and heavily armed guards stationed throughout the facility that Bobo had no idea about, employees who were secretly on the Gilt Rats’ payroll. If he had brought an entire army of Bloodline members to the front gates, the alarm would have been tripped, and Ramon would have tried to escape ahead of time.
By sending one man who excelled at stealth, the element of surprise was maintained. Now, the situation was perfect.
’In some syndicates, the whole structural situation is exactly like a game of chess. Once you trap and capture the opposing leader, then everything else instantly starts to fall apart,’ Max thought, watching the chaotic scene unfold through the boardroom camera.
’There are distinct advantages to that type of structure. Those groups that rely entirely on the charismatic strength of a single leader tend to be fiercely loyal and tight-knit. They will die for their boss. But they are fragile; they can only last a certain generation. Once the central pillar that brought them together fades or is killed, then everything else crumbles to dust with it.’
Max analyzed Ramon’s organization. ’Other cartels are set up corporately, designed to be taken over smoothly by a board of directors, continuing to run like cogs in a well-oiled watch even if the CEO is assassinated. But for the Gilt Rats, Ramon clearly is a micromanager. He’s smart, and he runs absolutely everything himself. The setups, the targets, the shady deals, it all flows through him. So, if we take out the king right here and now, the rest of them will fall into disarray.’
"Get him, Na!" Max ordered, his voice barking sharply through the screen’s speakers.
Since all of the armed men that Ramon had brought into the boardroom were currently dealt with, groaning on the floor or nursing broken bones, now was the golden chance. If Na captured or eliminated Ramon right now, they could end this grueling syndicate war before it even truly began.
Na lunged forward. He possessed terrifying super strength, and out of all the others in Max’s inner circle, his specific background made him an expert at sneaking into highly secure places and neutralizing high-value targets.
Aron would have technically been the best choice for a brute-force capture; however, Aron, as usual, had stubbornly insisted he stayed right by Max’s side in the headquarters. It was standard VIP protection, just in case something unexpected happened, or the Gilt Rats had decided to send a specialized assassin to eliminate Max while he was distracted by the video feed.
Na moved with terrifying speed, heading straight for Ramon, who was already scrambling up from his leather seat at the end of the table.
Na had his massive hands stretched out, dropping his center of gravity almost like a professional sports linebacker ready to viciously tackle his opponent to the ground.
Seeing this hulking wall of muscle charging directly at him, Ramon reacted with pure, desperate street instinct. He grabbed the heavy, ergonomic office chair in front of him and launched it directly at Na’s face.
Na didn’t even slow down. He was able to easily parry the heavy chair away with a simple, dismissive swipe of his forearm, knowing it would do absolutely no harm to his hardened body. But as the chair clattered harmlessly against the wall, Na realized that causing damage wasn’t Ramon’s intention in the first place.
Because in the split second the chair had blocked his line of sight, Ramon had already sprinted right towardsNa, rather than away from him.
Seeing this completely counter-intuitive move, even an experienced fighter like Na was taken aback slightly. Throwing a heavy object was usually meant to cause blunt-force damage, or to buy precious time for an individual to retreat and think of an escape route.
Instead, the thrown chair was an intentional, blinding distraction, and it allowed Ramon to get dangerously close, slipping right into Na’s guard.
Na quickly tried to throw a heavy, sweeping punch to correct his mistake, but his fist caught nothing but empty air. Because he had swatted the chair, his momentum was slightly off-balance, and Ramon used that microscopic window to slide right past him, dodging the lethal blow by inches.
"Do you honestly think I’ve never been in a real street fight before?!" Ramon panted, spinning around as he reached the open doorway of the boardroom.
He glared at the giant. "I’m not as weak as you might have arrogantly thought. But I’m also not stupid enough to stay and fight your giant wall of muscle in a closed room either."
Ramon shifted his gaze from Na to the computer monitor where Max was watching.
"Today was your only real chance that you will be able to get me by surprise, Max!" Ramon yelled, his face twisted with a mixture of fear and pure rage. "I’ll take your arrogant challenge on! I’m coming to get you, and I’m going to use absolutely everything we have in our arsenal to burn your empire to the ground!"
Without waiting for a response, Ramon turned and bolted out of the room. He was quickly moving through the winding corridors of the research facility. He needed to head somewhere else rather quickly before he completely evacuated the premises, because there were still vital things hidden at the facility he desperately needed.
’I need to take out all the hard drives and secure everything I can before they get their hands on my proprietary tech,’ Ramon thought frantically as he sprinted. ’I didn’t quite prepare for this specific hostage situation because I never expected Max Stern to be the one pulling the strings behind the Bloodline group.’
He swiped his keycard at a security door, his chest heaving. ’But I am not a fool. I did have a strict emergency procedure set up just in case the facility was ever raided or I was caught. The research data was always being automatically backed up and sent to another encrypted server safely hidden in my private home. So, even if they seize the labs, none of the crucial exoskeleton information will be lost to them.’
Back inside the boardroom, the once-pristine meeting room was now an absolute mess of broken furniture, scattered legal documents, and groaning thugs. Bobo was sitting frozen in her chair at the head of the table, just blankly looking at the destruction, trying to process everything that had just happened and taken place over the last ten minutes.
"I think it’s best you immediately do some heavy internal restructuring, Miss Bobo," Max said, his calm, modulated voice cutting through the stunned silence of the room.
Bobo flinched, looking up at the screen.
"You need to clean house to make sure something like this internal coup won’t ever happen to you again," Max advised coldly. "In the meantime, I will have to leave your facility to you. You have your company back. But it looks like I’ve officially made a powerful enemy today that has no choice but to come after my life now, so I’ll need to prepare my defenses."
Bobo opened her mouth, wanting to express a confusing mixture of profound gratitude and lingering resentment, but Max cut her off before she could speak.
"And Bobo," Max said, his eyes hardening as he looked at the woman who had tormented him in the past. "I just want to make sure you know one thing clearly, so there are no misunderstandings between us. I didn’t do this for you."
With that final, chilling statement, the video call abruptly ended, the screen going pitch black.
Down in the boardroom, Na’s phone buzzed in his tactical vest. He checked the screen. It was a secure text from Max, ordering him to fall back and return to the headquarters facility as soon as possible. War had been declared, and they would need absolutely all of the manpower they could get.